


Meeting the Winchesters

by Rose_The_Reaper



Series: The Adventures of Blake Silvester and the Winchester Brothers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_The_Reaper/pseuds/Rose_The_Reaper
Summary: Blake Silvester finds out she's the half-sister of the Winchester brothers and decides to join them.





	Meeting the Winchesters

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Imagine telling the boys you’re John’s daughter and so their little sister from https://spn-imagines-nation.tumblr.com/

My mother handed me her notebook, pointing at a phone number.

                “Call this number.” She said.

                “Why?”

                “It’s your father’s number. I think it’s time you met him.”

                “If you say so.” I said, plugging the numbers into the cell phone. The number rang for a good minute before someone picked up.

                “Hello?” the voice on the other end asked.

                “Hi. Is John Winchester there?” I asked.

                “Sorry to be the one to tell you but he’s dead.” The voice said.

                “Oh. Who is this?” I asked.

                “Dean Winchester, his oldest son. Who’s asking?”

                “Blake Silvester.”

                “Well Blake, how do you know John?”

                “He’s my father.”

                There was silence on the phone for about a minute.

                “Dean? How about we meet someplace and talk it over? I can bring my mother too if that helps.”

                “Uh sure. I’m currently in Hillsdale, North Carolina with my brother Sam.”

                “I’m in Delaware. We’ll drive down and call you again when we reach North Carolina.”

                “Sounds good. I’ll give you both mine and Sam’s numbers.” He said, reciting the numbers for me to jot down. I hung up the phone and looked at my mother.

                “Pack your bags, we’re going to North Carolina.” I said, getting up from the table.

                “Which car you want? The Lincoln or the Civic?”

                “Obviously the Lincoln.” I said with a laugh. “Leave in thirty?”

                “Sure.”

                We quickly packed our bags, then hopped in our vehicles. We had agreed to drive on through and meet up when we got to Hillsdale.

                After about nine hours of driving, we finally reached Hillsdale. My mother and I met up at a motel, got a room and dumped our stuff. I called Dean and arranged for us to meet at a nearby restaurant. We entered the restaurant and were greeted by two men. One was tall, with long hair, the other shorter, with short hair and green eyes.

                “Blake Silvester?” the shorter one asked.

                “Dean Winchester?”

                “That’s me. Let’s have a seat shall we?”

                We sat down in a booth and stared at each other awkwardly.

                “Well I’m Sam,” the taller one said, reaching to shake our hands.

                “I’m Danielle Silvester but you boys can call me Dani.” My mother said.

                “How’d you meet John?” Dean asked.

                “He came into town and we met at a bar. Turns out he was looking for some hunting spots. I pointed him in the right direction and asked if he wanted me along, as I’m a decent hunter myself.” My mother said.

                “What was he hunting?” Sam asked and my mother paled.

                “You won’t believe me.” She said.

                “Trust us. John taught us how to hunt too. Said it was the family business.” Dean said.

                My mother leaned in closer to them and whispered,

                “He was hunting werewolves. There was a pack roaming around. I helped him out.”

                “How long have you two been hunting?” Sam asked us.

                “For me it was when I could understand how to use a gun. I come from a long line of hunters.”

                “Mum was hesitant about teaching me. I started when I was about ten.” I said.

                “Sorry if this is rude, but how do we know you’re not lying?” Dean said. “Last time we had a call from our half sibling it turned out him and his mother were a ghoul.”

                “We can do tests later.” My mother said. “And I thought you might want proof.”

                My mother reached into her purse and pulled out a few Polaroid photographs.

                “These are of John and me. This one is John on a hunt; he looked so focused. And this final one is him visiting Blake for the first and last time.”

                “Why’d you call about wanting to talk to him?” Dean asked me.

                “Mom said I should meet him.” I answered.

                “I was hoping he was still alive so he could take her in. I’m a retired hunter now. I collect cases and send them out to hunters, who in turn pay me.” My mother said. “I didn’t want to keep Blake cooped up and wanted her to hunt with someone, maybe bond with her father.”

                We continued to chat as we ate and when we finished, we went to Sam and Dean’s motel room.

                “Sit.” Dean said, gesturing us to chairs.

                As soon as we sat down, he threw holy water at us.

                “Thanks.” I muttered.

                Both Sam and Dean continued their little experiments to ensure that we were both humans. Once they were satisfied, Dean asked,

                “Now what?”

                “Now I leave and you take Blake with you.” my mother said.

                “Oh hell no.” Dean said.

                “Guys come on.” I said.

                “No.” Dean said.

                “How about this, I go along on some hunts with you. If I get in the way, I go home, if I do well by your standards, I stay.” I suggested.

                “I think that sounds like a good plan.” Sam said.

                “Dammit Sammy!” Dean yelled. He stood for a moment, angrily fuming until he threw his hands in the air. “You know what? Fine! But it is not my fault if you suck or get killed.”

                “Deal.” I said.

                Once that was settled, I got my stuff and car from the other motel, said goodbye to my mother, then went back to Sam and Dean’s motel room.

                “So what kind of case you working on?” I asked.

                “Typical vengeful ghost.”

                “Cool. Anything I can do to help?”

                “Need help gathering research but I got it.”

                “What am I looking for?” I asked, pulling my laptop out of my bag.

                “Uh, obituaries, burial sites, and the Huntington family.” Sam said.

                “Got it.” I said.

                After a few hours of searching, I finally found something.

                “Says here the Huntington family was cremated. But since they were well known and quite favoured, relics of them were kept in the church to always remember them.”

                “But they’re haunting their house, not the church.” Sam said.

                “Must hate church.” I said with a chuckle.

                “You bookworms know what we gotta do?” Dean asked.

                “Yeah.” Sam and I said in unison.

                “Then suit up.” He said.

                I went to my car and grabbed my duffel bag with an assortment of supernatural hunting weapons. I put my brass knuckles on, feeling badass.

                “Brass knuckles?” Dean inquired, looking like he was stifling a laugh.

                “Made of iron. Perfect for punching ghosts dumbass.” I said.

                I strapped iron weapons to my body and ensured my bag had salt and guns with rock salt bullets.

                “Who’s car we taking?” I asked.

                “Mine.” Dean said, leading us out of the motel room.

                I went to move to the front seat but I felt myself being lifted and placed in front of the back passenger door.

                “No way am I letting you get shotgun.” Sam said as Dean got into the car.

                “You didn’t have to pick me up like a doll!” I said, getting in the back seat.

                “I couldn’t help it.” Sam said with a laugh as he got into the Impala.

                “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “You’re so tiny. I had to.” Sam laughed and Dean chuckled.

                “Hey you wanted to join us.” Dean said, our eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror.

                I ignored him and looked out the window as we drove to the church.

                We got to the church and we waltzed in. Behind the altar was a small glass box with what I assumed to be remains of the Huntington family. Immediately as I stepped forwards four spirits appeared.

                “I get the remains, you get the ghosts?” I asked.

                “Sure.” They said.

                I pulled out my iron blade and rushed forwards, swinging at the spirits. I pushed myself over the altar and smashed the glass box. I grabbed the remains and set them on the altar. I pulled out my flask of gasoline and my matches. I dumped the gasoline on the remains as Dean yelled,

                “Hurry up Blake!”

                “The matches won’t light God dammit!” I screamed back. Once a match caught, I threw it on the remains and watched as the spirits and the remains went up in flames.

                I approached my brothers, helping them to their feet.

                “Thanks Blake.” Sam said.

                “No problem.” I said. “You guys hungry? How about some burgers? It’s on me.”

                “Hell yeah.” Dean said.

                We left the church and picked up some food, then went back to the motel.

                As we ate, Dean asked,

                “You legal for drinking yet?”

                “Yeah why?” I asked.

                “Here.” He said, handing me a beer.

                “Thank you.” I said, popping the top off.

                “To family,” Dean said, raising his beer in a toast.

                “To family,” Sam said, raising his.

                “To family.” I said.

                After we clinked our beers together Dean looked at me and said,

                “Welcome to the family kid.”


End file.
